


You wish he had killed you

by ipreferlemonpie



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipreferlemonpie/pseuds/ipreferlemonpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think I'm scared?" You say as you grab the gun and press it against your forehead. "Go on, pull the trigger." "I can't love you." "And I can't redeem you," you tell him, he smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You wish he had killed you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [25 Lives](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/30580) by Tongari. 



> "(...) all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn't exist,  
> and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.  
> I hate those.  
> I prefer the ones in which you kill me."
> 
> -25 Lives by Tongari.

"You think I'm scared?" You say as you grab the gun and press it against your forehead.

You knew this was going to happen. You had noticed you had been being followed and observed for three months or at least, that's when you realized, when he publicly approached your life. It hadn't been that the stalker had been doing a lousy job, in fact, your stalker was close to perfection when it came to stealth, the thing was you were very observant (you had nothing else to do, no one to talk to, so you just stared at life pass you by) and even though you had seen your stalker only once (before you met, met him, when he was still immersed in shadows), you would have never forgotten his face, in fact you had searched for the beautiful eyes that had been haunting your dreams. You had an eye for beauty, even when it was wicked. So you had waited patiently, you had never acted as if you knew, you had let the stalker –an assassin it seemed– follow you, learn you routine, become more than a shadow.

You weren't afraid of death, in fact, you had already been planning to end your life, so why don't do it as a victim? A hero? You didn't really worry over other people's opinions, but if you had someone else to do the job then the better.

"Go on, pull the trigger."

He looks at you, undisturbed by your bravery, your stupidity. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

"From the very first time I saw your face," you admit, trying to look through the gun and into his eyes. "I confirmed it the very first time we kissed, and when you fucked me, I had already accepted it."

"I won't say I'm sorry, and I won't say I love you, because all this was part of my job," he confesses, yet you don't care, you had already known.

"You think I haven't worked that up all by myself already?" You laugh bitterly. "I just played along so I didn't dirty my own hands, if I have someone else to end my life, then why do it myself?"

"Why?" He asks, and you just shrug. "You have everything at the reach of your fingers, you could do anything… You could be anyone."

"I thought you would have found out already," you say as you frown slightly, "Ian," he shudders and your lavender eyes are nostalgic when you see what your whispering still does to him. "Is that even your real name?"

He doesn't answer, he just waits, the cold of the gun is slowly growing warm, stealing your body heat… just the way death will do.

"I'm lonely," you hiss, practically spitting it out. "Didn't you realize that? Didn't you feel my desperation through my clinging to you, my whoring myself out to you?"

"I can't love you."

"And I can't redeem you," you tell him, he smiles.

"Darcy," he just says your name and that means more than any other word. You close your eyes, readying yourself.

You expect to hear a bang; you expect to feel the impact yet no pain (no time for pain, it's too close, too fast, too effective… just like him), but the pressure against your forehead is gone, and with it, your lover is gone too. He leaves the gun beside you, yet no bullets are inside. He hadn't charged it. All this time, it had been empty. You don't understand; you just lay on your bed, crying silently. You wish he had killed you.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, peeps.  
> So this was a story inspired by Tongari's "25 Lives", it's a great, go read it, it's my favorite short-comic ever. I don't actually know what's this... just my feels while reading 25 Lives for the umpteenth time. 
> 
> Read and comment and kudos, maybe? (Only if you liked it and you want to, of course).


End file.
